Wild Hearts
by TigressDreamer
Summary: Happily ever after is hardly realistic when life gets in the way. What happens when desire is replaced by duties and temptation is tempered by hurt? Can the coming spring rebirth the passions cooled by winter? (Sequel to Wild Desire. Rated for sexual conduct, both implied and slight.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer for the entire story: Sadly, I do not own Strange Magic, although I do have the DVD that I play once a week.**

 ***Blush* It happened again! Can't these two behave?! There is a part that could be considered a little spooky, so if you're like me and you jump at shadows during the day, you might not want to read this at or near night. It's probably not enough to bothering anyone at all but I figured I'd give a warning just in case. It's kind of bad when you manage to actually scare yourself with something you wrote that isn't truly scary.**

 **I have no idea if there will be more continuations or not...We'll see. If so, then it'll show up around Beltane (May 1st) and possibly also around Lughnasadh (August 1st) to cover the four Gaelic seasonal festivals. No promises but it is a probable plan. Constructive advice is appreciated but please refrain from criticism. Enjoy!**

 **(Slight edit as of November 25, 2019)**

Marianne resists the urge to grab her sword. She badly wants to hit something, preferably her husband. How could he do this? She could understand where he is coming from but they've been married for three months. Surely he could understand her point as well.

"Come on, Bog. This is ridiculous," she growls.

"No, it's not," Bog growls back. "You need to stay here as I told you."

"Why?" Marianne questions.

"Just because you know some of our traditions, it doesn't mean you know all of them," he comments.

"That's why you're teaching me," she counters. "You said that it is tradition for the royal family to be at all the festivals and that all members fit are to take part in each of the Wild Hunts. Even if you don't want me to take part in the hunt then I can just stay with Griselda and help out with the festival."

"You can't help out with the festival and you're not coming with me on the hunt. Now, quit arguing and do as you're told," Bog orders before leaving the room.

Marianne sighs in frustration and runs her hands through her shaded brunette hair, enhancing the disorder among the short strands while also dislodging her jeweled golden circlet. The clanging metal against the hard floor reminds her of its presence and she reluctantly picks it back up.

The sparkling white and amber jewels shimmer at her as she gazes at the sign of her royal status as Crown Princess of the Light Fields and Queen of the Dark Forest. Her eyes spark with determination before returning the jeweled golden circlet on top of her head.

Oh, no. There is no way that she's going to drop the matter. It's bad enough that she wasn't even made aware of this Dark Forest tradition until today but for him to blow her off when she asked him about it is the last straw. Grabbing her sword from its place by the bed, Marianne storms after him with the intent on beating the answers out of him if necessary.


	2. Chapter 2

Griselda can't help the sigh the escapes her as she looks up at her son's rigid approach into the winter burrow's inner entrance. She got a distinct feeling that something worse was about to happen then the weather omen predicted this morning.

"The hunting party is ready, Your Majesty," Romulus announces.

"The festival party is also ready," Griselda informs.

"Good. Get ready to...," Bog starts.

"Bog!" Marianne hollers. "We're not through with our conversation!"

"Yes, we are," Bog growls, not bothering to look at her.

Groaning at his stubbornness, Griselda buries her head in her hands and shakes her head. She didn't know what the argument was about but she had hoped that he had learned his lesson from the last time she had to intervene when he had been ignoring his duties to inform his mate of the ways of the Dark Forest.

It was fine for the first month since Bog had to deal with the stress of winter final preparations and Griselda had quite enjoyed teaching the young fairy their history. But it wasn't the place of her and the elders to inform Marianne of such things and she had informed him of such. Apparently, it didn't get through his thick skull if the female stalking toward him is any indication.

"You haven't even answered my question," Marianne remarks. "I have the right to know."

"I've already told you my answer but you're not listening. Quit making a scene and get back inside," Bog orders.

"I'm making a scene?" Marianne scoffs. "If you'd just answer my question instead of giving me orders than this would have been settled hours ago. Why can't I take part in the hunt or the festival?"

Griselda opens her mouth to stem the growing argument but Bog spins around to face his mate with a furious expression.

"Because you're a fairy!" Bog roars. "This is a goblin's hunt and a goblin's festival, not for some simpering, spoiled, little fairy who won't listen!"

At least she's not the only elder to slap their face at their foolish king's remark. He could've explained it much nicer to her that many were wary of her joining because of her newness to the kingdom but no. At this rate, Bog is going to bring the ill blessings on them all on his own.

The sound of clanging metal makes her look up just in time to see the royal scepter flying through the air and she watches in horror as Marianne's blade gleams brightly in the morning sun against Bog's throat. Her son's own blue eyes are wide in surprise but it's Marianne's eyes that make her gulp. Gone are the friendly amber eyes that she's known for the past three months and in their place, a hard stone burning with rage.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hear me, Bog King!" Marianne growls roughly, spitting his name like a curse. "You will not show such disrespect to me. You dare accuse me of being simpering and spoiled. You, a pampered princeling, who gained the crown when the previous king died because of your ancestor's feats. Unlike you, I earned my rank as Queen of the Dark Forest. Or did you forget that the only reason we're even married is that I didn't kill you when I had the desire to."

"Little thistle," Griselda tries to soothe, gulping as the fierce glare is directed toward her. "He doesn't mean it like that. It's just, with you being a fairy and all...,"

"So now me being a fairy is a problem?" Marianne interrupts. "No one seemed to have a problem when I chose to marry your king instead of killing him. No one seemed to have a problem when I chose to side with the Dark Forest against my own people, my own father."

"You're overreacting," Bog starts, stopping as the sharp blade brushes his skin.

Marianne pours out all her anger into her glare. She is tired of him brushing her off when it comes to the kingdom. Everything had started off so well that she didn't care that their marriage was technically a political maneuver at best and a marriage of convenience at worst. Then the winter final preparations started taking Bog's complete attention and he brushed off her help since she didn't know how they prepared.

She was fine with that, though. She fully understood the dangers of one mistake during those crucial days. Besides, she had to fulfill her own duties back in the Light Fields. Duties that Bog should have accompanied her with but with him responsible for his own kingdom, nobody resented the absence of the new crown prince. Everyone knew that winter is too harsh a time to start new duties.

But then came the long winter days when both she and Bog were busy caring for the Dark Forest subjects in the winter burrow. Between that and studying through the Dark Forest archives, she had seen very little of Bog during the day except at mealtimes. Even in their bedchambers, there wasn't really much time for talking and soon even that time was devoted to sleep.

She is tired and frustrated. She is their queen and yet they, he, pushed her aside just because she's a fairy.

"I may be a fairy but I'm still a queen worthy of respect," Marianne states loudly. "You will abide by your oath to me, goblin king, or I will make you rue your deceit."

Gripping the sword's hilt hard enough to hurt, Marianne quickly sheathes it before slamming her right fist into her husband's jaw. She takes great satisfaction as his body stumbles back from her attack and lands near the laden-down pack squirrels.

She looks around to the other goblins and feels a mixture of savage pride and hopelessness at their shocked expressions. Three months of trying to prove herself to them and it's all for nothing. She was a fool to think they really accepted her. She shakes it off and snaps her wings open in defiance before stalking back inside. Her regal bearing falters at the sound of Bog's orders to move out and she refuses to acknowledge the tears streaming down her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Bog touches his jaw gingerly as he picks himself up from the ground. It isn't broken and he doesn't think any of his teeth are loose but it is definitely sore.

He watches the enraged female re-enter the winter burrow before retrieving his royal scepter. He'll have to deal with this later. He's already late to start the hunt and the festival. Directing his attention to their subjects, he gulps as he notices the displeased glares directed at him.

It wasn't his fault that she couldn't join them!

"Move out!" Bog orders.

"Bog!" his mother growls.

"Not now, Mother," Bog groans.

"Yes, now!" Griselda demands, walking swiftly beside him. "You need to go back and talk to her."

"We're already late," Bog argues. "Besides, she won't listen."

Noticing the budding argument, Bog twitches his wings into action and calls the hunting party to follow as they exit the inner entrance. His can't contain the spark of laughter at his mother's yell of frustration. Having wings when your mother does not does have its upside.

He'll deal with it later.

"Or maybe I should have dealt with it then," he mutters lowly hours later.

The noon sun beams blindingly from its position in the mostly cloudless sky as several members of the hunting party haul their catch to the large sett near the farthest range of the kingdom. He ignores the frustrated and upset grumblings behind him as he keeps his pace steady. He knows full well that his subjects are still upset with him for upsetting their queen since they aren't being quiet about their displeasure.

"Sire, I have a suggestion," Romulus comments.

"As long as it's not another complaint," Bog mutters.

"Since the hunt took longer than usual and we didn't catch any prey for ourselves," Romulus starts, accusation lacing his voice. "Maybe it would be a good idea for you to join the females at the Sacred Spring while we continue. We wouldn't want to impede your royal duties."

Bog snarls at the toothy goblin before picking his pace up. Worst of it all is his own frustration and the consequences of it. It was ridiculous. Him, a grown goblin that's been hunting since he became of age and they manage to lose three plump hedgepigs because of his lapse of attention. He really hopes Auld Broc has good news.

"Auld Broc, are you well?" Bog hollers once they reach the sett's entrance.

For a few moments there is no sound except the wind blowing until a sandy-red badger boar ambles into the opening. He grunts and snuffles for a few minutes at his company before sniffing at the four dead hedgepigs appraisingly.

"Seasons greetings to you as well, Auld Broc," Bog greets. "I apologize for waking you at such an hour. How fares this Imbolc day?"

Auld Broc grunts and snuffles some more before grabbing the hedgepigs and disappearing back into his sett.


	5. Chapter 5

Marianne throws the useless jeweled golden circlet on the large moss bed after making her way into the royal bedchambers. She viciously wipes away the falling tears, grateful that the poor lighting within the underground structure kept their presence from the remaining goblins. It was stupid. She knew going into this that they wouldn't agree on everything.

So why is she letting it get to her?

There's absolutely no point in acting so childish and throwing a tantrum, especially in front of everybody. She is so stupid. Some queen she turned out to be.

Growling in frustration at the persistent tears, she ignores the watery nuisance to open her wardrobe. No point sitting here feeling sorry for herself when she has duties to perform. She quickly dons her traveling garments and packs her knapsack before checking her appearance in the vanity mirror. The reflected image causes her to laugh at the remembrance of Bog's attitude when the pack squirrels brought the object to the Dark Forest castle.

It was definitely hilarious and Griselda only added to his exasperation when she asked if the elf craftsman who made it would be willing to make one for her. Despite Bog's disgust at the mirror being added to the bedchambers, she has caught him gazing into it several times himself. He, of course, denied it but that charming blush is a great lie detector.

Marianne shakes the nostalgia away and cleans the dried tears before fixing her make-up and heading out. She laughs as she's forced to fly near the tunnel roof as a large group of goblin children run through with Thang and Wisp chasing close behind. She barely manages to get out of the way of the second group of cackling goblin children as she turns into another corridor, this time with Fang and Nex furiously chasing after them covered in flour. Clearly, the little monsters got away from the nursery with so few male goblins left to keep an eye on them and are trying to wreak havoc.

"Leaving, Your Majesty?" Elder Onyx questions.

"Since I have no duties to fulfill here than there is no reason to not fulfill my duty back in the Light Field," Marianne answers.

"You aren't taking your crown, though," Elder Onyx comments, keeping pace beside her.

"I never need to wear it there," Marianne mutters.

The elder goblin grunts and remains quiet as they make their way into the inner entrance. Marianne spreads her wings and hums as the heat caresses the scales. She was wondering if she would need to take a squirrel mount but the sun is hot enough to chase away the cold.

It is such a beautiful day.

"His Majesty didn't mean it like it sounded," Elder Onyx murmurs.

"Sure seemed like it," Marianne grumbles. "I didn't even know about today being special until I overheard Nex talking about making honey and blackberry jam cakes."

"The king is still young," Elder Onyx chuckles. "He may not have wanted to upset you and thought not telling you would be better."

"That worked splendidly," Marianne quips, grinning at the elder's growling laughter. "So, what's so special that a fairy isn't allowed to take part?"

"It's not so much you being a fairy. All of the captive females' descendants would be excluded if that is the case, including the Bog King," Elder Onyx mentions. "It has more to do with the fact that you're still unfamiliar with all of our ways and though you're of age, we must treat you the same as we do the young ones. You do have a tendency to activate our laws without meaning to, after all."

"So everyone decided to exclude me to make sure I didn't cause any trouble," Marianne mutters before sighing. "I'll be back tonight."

"Make sure that you return before nightfall or it's better for you to stay there until morning!" Elder Onyx warns hurriedly as she takes off into the air.

The elderly goblin groans as the queen disappears into the bright sky. He can't tell if his explanation did any good or not. Giving out a huff, he shakes himself over and sniffs the cold air before returning inside the winter burrow. He can only pray that she at least heeds his warning.


	6. Chapter 6

"You really need to have that talk with the seamstress, Dad. This is gaudy," Marianne complains, picking at the white fabric.

"No, it's not," Dawn huffs. "It's not much different from the dresses you used to wear."

"Yes, it is," Marianne argues. "Just look at all this."

Dagda chuckles at his daughters' bickering from his place on the settee. He had never thought about all the changes that would come once one of his girls got married. He just assumed that everything would be the same or near to it. Weeks without his wild girl around to create some kind of chaos had made the winter awfully boring and it is so good to have a little normality after being too quiet for so long.

"You're overreacting," Dawn accuses.

"I am not," Marianne sniffs, biting her lip.

"What's wrong, Marianne?" Dagda asks worriedly.

"Nothing," Marianne mumbles.

Dagda exchanges a confused look with his youngest at the unusual reaction and his dark red wings give a startled flutter as tears start to fall from Marianne's eyes. That is definitely unusual. His wild daughter crying over a dress? That sounded more like Dawn.

As Dawn rushes to grab tissues to replace Marianne's use of her gloved hand, Dagda looks over the dress in question to see if he can find the reason for her distress but comes up empty-handed. It really isn't much different than her old dresses.

A simple white sleeveless v-neck knee-length dress with white leggings and white elbow-length gloves. It's nearly identical to the one that Dawn is wearing. Even his own green and gold suit of armor is traded for the softer white tunic and white breeches, as is customary to be worn for the Day of Brigid. Truly, the only difference from their clothing to the rest of their people is the gold markings and crests adorning them to announce their royal status.

"Dawn, please go fetch us some tea," Dagda suggests.

He smiles as the worried blonde flies quickly out of the room and down the corridors to fulfill his request. Turning his attention back to the crying brunette, he sighs before walking over to pluck the tissues from her shaking hands and wiping the tears himself.

"Alright, now what's wrong? And don't say nothing," Dagda warns. "It's not like you to cry over a dress, especially one you were deliberately just picking a fight with your sister about."

"Did the seamstress really have to add so much gold? She should know by now that I hate flaunting the royal crest," Marianne grumbles, avoiding the pointed look.

Dagda raises his eyebrow at her avoidance before looking over the source of her complaint. It is true that the seamstress did add more gold to this design than any of the other clothes that Marianne wore. Artistic lines dance along the collar nearly resembling her new crown and even the hem of the dress is covered in artistic lines forming vines, butterflies, and dragonflies that reach mid-hip.

"I refuse to believe that is what is upsetting you," Dagda mutters. "I gave the seamstress the go-ahead on her idea to add more of the royal crest. You aren't just a crown princess anymore, after all, but a queen as well."

His wings give another startled flutter as the tears gain more strength and he eases Marianne down onto the settee. If only the pixies didn't sleep through the whole winter! They are much better at soothing his daughters than he is.

It can't be the dress that's bothering her.


	7. Chapter 7

"Marianne, dear, what happened? Was it something back in the Dark Forest?" Dagda questions gently.

"Today is the day for the Mid-Winter Wild Hunt and I didn't even know it until early this morning," Marianne murmurs, sipping the camomile tea.

"Mid-Winter Wild Hunt?" Dawn repeats. "I thought they only have one Wild Hunt a year."

"They have others but they are confined to the Dark Forest. They're literal hunts with special purposes," Marianne explains. "The Mid-Winter Wild Hunt is to hunt for hedgepigs for a badger clan that lives on the far side of the Dark Forest. It's given in exchange for knowledge of how much longer winter will last and also a bribe for Auld Broc to keep his new cubs out of the populated areas of the kingdom. I had to get Thang to tell me about this one because no one told me. I'm queen but I'm unwanted."

"I'm sure that's not true," Dagda soothes.

"I talked to Elder Onyx before I came here and he even told me that they have to treat me like they do the goblin children because I cause too much trouble with my ignorance to their laws," Marianne mutters. "The elders stopped teaching me two months ago and I've been combing the archives in any spare time that I have but it's still not enough. Goblin children know more about Dark Forest laws and traditions than I do."

"Maybe it's like our own concerns with Bog and they just don't want to burden you down with the added stress of new duties during the winter season," Dagda suggests.

"But it's not like with Bog," Marianne protests. "His duties as king take precedence but my duties as the crown princess can easily be carried out by Dawn if I can't fulfill them. There's nothing stopping me from really becoming Queen of the Dark Forest in reality instead of just in title."

"You are a queen in reality," Dawn remarks.

"I haven't done one thing pertaining to the Dark Forest crown since I got married except where it concerns the Light Field and since we moved into the winter burrow my duties only consist of helping the elders in their duties and sometimes taking care of the goblin children," Marianne comments dully. "I've been food inspector, cook, inventory keeper, burrow cleaner, healer, nursemaid, babysitter, storyteller, and my personal favorite, argument ender. Some queenly duties."

"Have you talked to Bog about this?" Dagda asks.

"This morning is the most that we've talked in days and it was nothing but arguing," Marianne mutters. "There's even a festival that takes place today that I didn't know about and when I went to talk to him about it, he gave me orders that I wasn't allowed to participate in either because I'm a fairy. A simpering, spoiled, little fairy who won't listen!"

Marianne's hands start to clench at the remembrance but loosen at Dawn's cry of alarm as the teacup starts to crack. Forcing herself to relax, she flutters the tension out of her wings before sighing heavily.

"He was right about me overreacting, though. I yelled at him in front of everybody before punching him," Marianne admits. "I was just so mad and hurt because when he verbally accepted me in front of his subject three months ago, he also swore to my terms of a union in equal terms of respect. I knew going into this that I wouldn't get everything Dawn and I dreamed about growing up but I at least thought that I would be treated as an equal instead of a nuisance."

Knocking on the chamber doorframe alerts the royal family before Sunny enters with arms full of flower wreaths. His own white tunic and white breeches make the snowdrops almost indistinguishable as he slowly makes his way towards them, careful not to drop his cargo.

"The parade is ready, Your Majesty," Sunny announces.

"Thank you, Sunny," Dagda replies, accepting two of the flower chains.

Marianne smiles as her father places one around her neck and kisses her forehead before repeating the process with Dawn. Both girls laugh at his grumbling about time moving too fast when they place the snowdrop crown on his head without needing to use their wings. It was a familiar complaint during the Day of Brigid for the past several years.

Soon the familiarity of the beloved holiday outweighs her distressing morning and Marianne joins in the merriment of singing and dancing as they parade through each elf, brownie, and fairy village. The newly cleaned homes get a blessing by the royal family and the occupants join the parade as it treks onward. Not even the approaching clouds can dampen the joyous spirits as the Light Field denizens return the blessing on the royal family and the newly cleaned palace before returning to the winter cavern for feasting and more dancing.


	8. Chapter 8

Bog growls in frustration at his mother's cold shoulder. No sooner had he arrived at the Sacred Spring after leaving the hunting party then Griselda decided to remind him of her displeasure toward him. A general agreement among the other female goblins that caused the bonfires and bright sunlight to have no effect on the chilly atmosphere.

"Are you even going to ask me what Auld Broc had to say?" Bog questions.

"The only thing I want to hear you say is that you went and talked to Marianne," Griselda growls.

"I did talk to her this morning but she wouldn't listen," Bog remarks, grinding his teeth. "I told her that she couldn't join the hunt or the festival."

"Obviously you didn't explain it right," Elder Babba scoffs. "Did you even tell her what the traditions hold for Imbolc?"

"He didn't even tell her about Imbolc," Stuff mumbles. "I heard Thang explaining some of it to her this morning."

Bog gulps at the hostile glares and twitches his wings ready in case of attack. Just what is his reign coming to? First Samhain and now Imbolc! He's almost worried what Beltane holds for him...that is if he lives long enough.

"What do you mean you didn't tell her about Imbolc?" Griselda yells. "I can understand why you didn't want her to join the purification but she's the queen, she has the right to know. No wonder she walloped you because you deserved it!"

"What do you mean I didn't want her to join? You and the elders were the ones complaining that she didn't know all of our laws and traditions," Bog accuses.

"That you were supposed to teach her," Elder Babba growls. "We thought she was having a hard time understanding them, not that she wasn't being taught them."

"I've been busy," Bog mutters.

"Doing what? Queen Marianne has been doing a splendid job with her share of the winter duties and you both should have plenty of time to talk," Elder Waylay comments.

"Speaking of duties, don't you think I should do mine right now? We're already late as it is," Bog mumbles.

He doesn't notice the older females exchanging a look behind his back as he heads to the clear waters streaming down the red-streaked rock. Nor does he hear his mother following close behind him. Bog bends down and cups the cold flavorful water in his hands and takes a sip before raising it to the washing basins between the two bonfires. Giving his blessing, he takes another sip before pouring the rest onto the ground.

"When was the last time you two coupled?" Griselda questions suddenly.

"Mom!" Bog yells, turning around quickly to face his mother.

His sure-footedness is worthless in the slush created by the warming bonfires and in his embarrassment, the absolute control over his wings means nothing as he spirals down into the waters below.


	9. Chapter 9

Bog glares sullenly as the male goblins enter the small clearing where the Sacred Spring is located. It's clear from their mirthful grins that the females explained his embarrassing mistake when they returned to the winter burrows. Thankfully, the horde keeps their opinions to themselves while he repeats the blessing ritual before returning to the smaller fire's edge. He is barely able to withhold the groan at the elders' approach toward him and not the washing basins.

"Having ill blessings this day, Bog King?" Elder Onyx questions, his humor evident.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bog mutters.

"The hunting party gave quite the story of His Majesty's exploits of being outsmarted by three hedgepigs," Elder Jawal comments.

"The females also gave tale to your unscheduled purification bath in the Sacred Spring," Elder Creet chuckles. "My Jamma said they couldn't stop laughing even after they dragged you out and started another fire for you to warm while they bathed."

"And let's not forget about Her Majesty's enraged attack earlier," Elder Onyx murmurs, grinning wider at the twitch underneath the cloak. "Surely, the king isn't regretting any of his decisions."

"Auld Broc says the heavy snow is to continue for several weeks more, so maybe you should take your purification baths and leave me alone!" Bog growls.

He doesn't relax as the elders obey his orders and head toward the washing basins. Even the Imbolc chant for health, good luck, fertility, and prosperity striking up does no good to lighten his mood and he idly rubs his sore jaw. Waiting to dry while the females bathed and waiting more when they left for the males to join him had given him too much time to think.

He missed those early days. It was much easier to deal with their differences when they didn't have time to notice them. It wasn't that noticeable when their responsibilities started to interfere with their time together because they still had time for each other. For a little while anyway.

Why did his mother have to ask him that? And even more, why did she have to figure out the answer without him even answering? He didn't want to think about how long it's been since they coupled because it only solidifies how inadequate he is.

His wings twitch once more as a particularly strong breeze ruffles his cloak and he looks up toward the afternoon sky. The approaching clouds smell frigid and Auld Broc's warning repeats itself in his mind. They're in for a storm tonight.

He shakes off his moping and quickly assists the other males in extinguishing the fires and readying the pack squirrels for the trek back. Even the journey to the winter burrow gives no time for his dark thoughts to return as he diligently keeps alert for any stragglers as the winds blow fiercer.

"Good thing we managed to catch five hedgepigs before the hunting party returned to the burrow," Romulus mutters as the snow starts falling. "Seems that Cailleach decided not to wait much longer before continuing her winter."

"I'm just grateful that she waited until we made it back to the burrow. I'm getting a little too old to navigate in snow taller than me," Elder Creet chuckles, brushing off the snow that a squirrel shook onto him.

"Bog!"

Looking up at the call, Bog watches as his mother runs as fast as she can into the inner entrance and braces himself for another lecture. It's bad enough that he's a failure as a mate but couldn't he go at least half a day without getting nagged at? It would be far easier if it was spring already and then he could take Marianne away for some private conversation. Or just some plain privacy.

"Marianne's gone! I went to go check on her after we returned and only found this," Griselda gasps out, holding up the jeweled golden circlet. "We searched the entire burrow and even the castle but she's nowhere."

Bog takes the jeweled golden circlet from his mother's hands and bites his lip as he runs a claw over the empty space where the largest amber jewel had rested. She wouldn't really leave, would she? Surely, she wouldn't renounce being the Dark Forest's queen just because of him, right? His own whimper goes unnoticed amidst the other whimpers being echoed throughout the area as each of the goblins voice their own concerns about their missing queen.

"Surely, the king isn't regretting any of his decisions," Elder Onyx murmurs once more.

"What are you getting at?" Bog questions.

"I'm merely asking if the Bog King was regretting any of his decisions," Elder Onyx comments. "His Majesty did reject two possible solutions to the problem a fierce fairy warrior created the day of Samhain and instead swore to her mateship on equal terms of respect. If the king isn't regretting his decision then why are his actions seeming to suggest it?"

Bog jolts at the accusation and nearly slams the royal scepter against the elder goblin's head but the steely eyes staring calmly back at him make him pause. Did they really believe that he didn't care about or respect his mate?

It's ridiculous! Of course, he did.

But was he really acting like he didn't? He averts his eyes back to the jeweled golden circlet and gasps as a small amber jewel dislodges from its place to fall to the ground.

That couldn't be a good omen.

"The queen didn't leave," Elder Onyx reassures the whimpering goblins. "She's merely fulfilling her duties as the Crown Princess of the Light Field."

"Then why didn't she take her crown?" Stuff asks, hugging the sniffling Thang.

"She said that she didn't need it there," Elder Onyx remarks.

"You couldn't have told us this earlier! We've been worried sick," Griselda growls. "When did she say that she'll be back?"

"She said tonight but I did warn her to make it back by nightfall or to stay there until morning," Elder Onyx answers.

"Maybe we should send a few mounted scouts out in case Her Majesty is already on her way back," Elder Waylay suggests.

Nodding his agreement, Bog opens his mouth to give the order before freezing in fear at the awful sound permeating the air. He stares in disbelief towards the snowy entrance, certain that he is only hearing things because it couldn't be possible, but the dreadful sound repeats itself once more.

Marianne!


	10. Chapter 10

"Are you sure, Marianne?" Dagda questions. "The weather seems to be getting bad again and you may have trouble making it back. It might be best for you to stay here until morning."

"I told Elder Onyx that I would be back tonight," Marianne comments. "Besides, you always told us to not put off our duties and that especially means family duties. Bog and I need to talk and I need to apologize for overreacting this morning by yelling at him in front of everyone."

"Including for punching him," Dawn points out.

"No way am I apologizing for that, he deserved it," Marianne remarks. "I better get going or I won't be able to beat the snow. I'll come to visit the next warm day."

The cold wind bites her wings once she exits the winter cavern and Marianne immediately regrets not taking a mount this morning. There was no need to with how sunny and warm the day was but now the hidden sun gives her no relief as she flies across the snow-covered kingdom towards the border. She grits her teeth and flaps harder as the wind blows fiercer, breathing a sigh of relief once she makes it to the tree line.

Marianne doesn't hear the eerie quiet as she rests on a tree root. She doesn't notice the forest growing darker or the fierce winds suddenly dying. A snapping twig causes her hand to grip her sword's hilt and she scans the area reflexively.

She laughs off her foolishness and scolds herself for acting silly. The dormant trees and vines seem to welcome her home and she glides around them with ease. There was no reason to fear the Dark Forest. She's its queen, after all, and the only thing she needed to worry about is making it back to the burrow before nightfall. Just a little while longer and she can curl up in her nice warm moss bed. With any luck, she might even be able to tempt her prickly male into joining her.

Just how long has it been since they had sex? Three weeks? Close to four?

Far too long as far as she is concerned and it's time to remedy that. It's no wonder they've been drifting apart. How could she neglect her poor sexually frustrated husband? A handsome male goblin in his prime needs to be reminded often how fiery and satisfying his female fairy is. Her hands twitch in excitement at the thought of reminding Bog how talented they really are.

She couldn't wait until she gets home!

Maybe she could sneak into the castle and put that slutty dress on. Or she could just forget clothes entirely. Her jewels, though, should definitely go on. They could even play-act their first meeting all over again.

Those soulful eyes of his drawn to the tempting shimmering in the darkness as she starts the bring her sword down. His desperate act in taking her breast into his mouth, suckling gently at first before turning harder and more demanding for her milk. Those sharp teeth grazing her delicate flesh and sending heat to her core. A core that is soon invaded by his long fingers, causing her wings to flutter in response to his ministrations as she holds his head closer to her chest.

Giving in to temptation, she runs her fingers down his scaly back to the sensitive scales surrounding the base of his wings and scratches lightly at first before rubbing hard. She giggles as his guttural moan tickles the flesh in his mouth before gasping as his mouth replaces his demanding fingers.

His powerful sinewy arms lift her form to give him easy access to his prize and force her legs to widen with one resting on each his shoulders. Her wings beat furiously at his merciless assault and she screams her pleasure into the air as he continues relentlessly.

Forcefully, she pulls his face away and covers his protest with her mouth, plundering his cavern with her own tongue. Her questing hands quickly find their prize and she prods impatiently at the protective covering until his heated desire reveals its presence into her hand. His cry softens her exploration and she pulls back slightly to stare into his heated gaze.

How could she not love this male?

Lowering herself to cover him, she can only gaze in fascination at the glimmering lights as he spreads his wings. He's so beautiful, so passionate, so considerate. She could never leave him. She knew that it would break his heart if she ever left just as surely as her own heart would break. Her own wings spread as the glimmering lights grow stronger and she smiles gently down into her husband's green eyes.

Marianne unsheathes her sword with swiftness before slamming it across the large snout in front of her. She desperately tries to shake off the lingering vision while keeping her eyes and sword trained on the snarling beast glaring at her with its green eyes still glowing with power.

She couldn't believe she almost...No! She will not succumb to that creature!

Trying to take flight off the tree root only alerts her to her wings' snow-covered condition and she falls to the ground to avoid the incoming attack. The snow softens the impact but it also impedes her movements and she scrambles to find her footing as the monster claws at the protective roots surrounding her. Barely making it out of the way as her wooden shield snaps under the assault, Marianne strikes her attacker once more before quickly running into a nearby briar patch while it's shaking the annoying scratch away.

She's trapped and they both know it. Without her wings, she has no hope of outrunning it to safety. Marianne pulls her cloak from her knapsack and covers herself from the cold as paws the size of a squirrel attack her more prickly shield. She tries to push herself deeper but the sharp thorns block her way to safety and she watches in horror as the enormous shaggy dark green-furred dog ignores the painful branches in its quest for her.

She knows what this beast is. Cu-Sith, the death hound. There is no escape. Images flash before her and her heart aches at the knowledge that she'll never see her family or friends again. Never see Bog again.

Oh, Bog!

As if it could hear her thoughts about her husband, Cu-Sith stops its frantic scratching and stares at her with its glowing green eyes that almost appear sympathetic. Her body slowly relaxes and her amber eyes drift low, losing itself under the spell once more as Bog coaxes her to sleep.

Even with all their responsibilities and their drifting apart, he always took care to envelop her as they slept. Always guarding her and keeping her from harm. Keeping her tucked against his warmer body and his carapace armor surrounding her to protect her softer flesh. She felt safe with him almost from the beginning, so why would she not feel safe with him now?

She breathes in his musk as his heated breath drifts over her and she steps closer toward his open arms. He'll protect her from the cold. He smiles lovingly and beckons her closer. Just a little closer and she'll be safe in his arms.

Just a little clo...her sword snags on a thorn and Marianne shakes the vision away furiously.

"No," Marianne growls.

Screaming her rage, Marianne stabs her sword into a glowing green eye and readies herself as Cu-Sith rears back to scratch at the wound. Marianne flutters her wings under the cloak and prays that it's enough before throwing the cloak and knapsack off and taking flight in the small gap. She forces her wings to go faster as she weaves around the trees with the bull-sized dog lumbering after.

The first baying bark makes her look behind her in horror and she turns around with fierce determination as the second baying bark rings out. She couldn't let it sound its third bark!

Those in the Light Field were safe in the winter cavern but she had no way of knowing if the Dark Forest denizens were all back into the safety of the winter burrow. She had to protect them. She couldn't let the death hound target anyone else.

Marianne ignores the pain in her wings as she dives toward the beast as it opens its mouth once more and her sword slices across the large muzzle before the third bark sounds.

Cu-Sith gives a pained yelp as the attack manages to draw blood and shakes its head. It snarls as its prey manages to nick a sensitive ear but its lumbering paws can't catch the fairy flying around its form. It growls back at the growling creature and snaps its jaws as the fairy nearly damages its other eye. Pawing and swiping, snapping and growling, the enormous dog dances to catch the little fairy queen darting to and fro.

Diving once more with her sword raised, Marianne fails to notice the whipping long plaited green tail until it's too late and her sword is separated from her as she is thrown through the air. The snow breaks her fall once more but this time she can only watch distantly as Cu-Sith approaches her prone form. Its green eyes bore into hers as darkness consumes her vision.


	11. Chapter 11

Bog snarls at the blowing wind and snow as he fights against it towards his objective. The sounds of fighting up ahead give him both relief and fear. He had never doubted her ferocity but even he didn't think that she would actually challenge the death hound.

Maybe challenge isn't the right word. He knows her. Marianne isn't foolhardy unless she feels that she has no choice. If she is actually fighting Cu-Sith then she has no way of escaping.

Bog pushes his wings to fly faster. He has to get there! He can't let her fight alone and he definitely will not let that beast take her.

Marianne's scream rips through his heart like a sword and he nearly falters at the pain inside his chest. She couldn't be. He arcs around a wide tree and nearly stops breathing at the sight of his beloved laying haphazardly in the snow with the monstrous dog padding towards her.

Roaring his rage, Bog dives quickly and slams his scepter against Cu-Sith's muzzle with every ounce of strength he can muster. He lands in front of Marianne as the beast stumbles back from the blow and holds the royal scepter out protectively over his mate's prone form. As Cu-Sith turns its glowing green eyes towards him, Bog unties a bottle from his waist and holds it out towards the creature before uncorking it.

The great dog's eyes lose their glow and widen in fear. Its posture loses its fierceness and it cowers before the goblin.

"You know what this is. You can smell it," Bog growls. "You've trespassed and invaded my lands, devil dog. Worst of all, you've attacked my mate. Give me a reason that I should not use this on you."

Cu-Sith whimpers its apologies and tries to back up but the goblin gives a warning growl. Whimpering again, the great dog prostrates itself with small yips accompanying its submission.

"Return to your mountains and never enter my lands again or I'll hunt you down," Bog warns. "Begone!"

Bog breathes a sigh of relief as the beast quickly runs out of sight and the snowy wind returns to the area. He wasn't entirely sure that would work. He recorks the bottle and reties it around his waist before kneeling down to check Marianne. Keeping his scepter on guard, Bog cradles her upper body against his chest and gently brushes her brunette hair. Bleary and unfocused amber eyes part slightly at his coaxing and he smiles gently down at her.

"No," Marianne mumbles faintly before losing consciousness again.

No?

She wasn't still angry at him, was she?

The sound of his subjects calling out distract him from his thoughts and he yells his position. He has to get Marianne to safety first. She's far too cold and he can't see her cloak anywhere nearby.

Seeing the approaching squirrels, Bog cradles Marianne against him and flies over to them. He ignores the whimpered questioning and wraps Marianne with the offered cloak before handing her to Remus.

"Take the queen back to the burrows and have Junco care for her," Bog orders. "Dax and Adder, you come with me. I need to make sure that Cu-Sith did not target the Light Field."

Bog watches the two squirrels bound back to the burrow before taking his seat on the extra saddled squirrel and urging it towards the border. He ignores his heart's ache as they traverse the snow-covered land. He badly wants to turn around and be with Marianne. A desire that increases once they reach the damaged briar patch and he notices her cloak fluttering in the snowy wind.

They pause only a moment to retrieve Marianne's things before quickly racing over the snow to the winter cavern. The lack of giant paw prints gives them relief as they near the glowing entrance and so does the small crowd of males gathering just past the burning fires.

"What are you doing out there, Bog? Get in here! Cu-Sith is on the prowl," Dagda warns.

"Not anymore it isn't," Bog informs. "It went back to its mountains."

The relief rushing through the crowd is palpable as the three squirrel riders guide their mounts between the fires and into the cavern. The peace doesn't last long, though, when Sunny spots Marianne's cloak and the resulting panic spreads to those in hiding.

"Calm down! Marianne is alright!" Bog yells over the commotion.

"Alright? How alright?" Dawn asks, flying down from the upper corridors. "Why didn't she come with you if she's alright?"

"I sent her back to the burrows to be cared for by the healers," Bog starts.

"Marianne's hurt?" Dawn interrupts. "What are you doing here instead of being with her? How could you leave her?"

"Dawn, dear, maybe you should let Bog finish," Dagda suggests, forcing Dawn away from the overwhelmed goblins.

"Marianne is alright," Bog repeats. "Cu-Sith attacked her but she attacked it right back. She doesn't appear to be harmed, just exhausted and cold. I'm here to make sure that Cu-Sith hasn't attacked anyone here and to prevent it from happening. It's late and I want to get back to the burrows before nightfall."

Dagda takes the growled hint and shoos the worried onlookers back to the feasting tables. Slowly, the music and dancing returns as the goblins unload several bottles from sacks attached to their saddles and hand them to the waiting guards.

"These will discourage Cu-Sith from attacking should it decide to return. I don't think it will but it's better to be prepared," Bog explains. "This is water that's been collected from our Sacred Spring this morning. We use it for a blessing but it also works to ward off any straying mountain fae because of the iron it possesses."

"Bog, a word before you leave," Dagda comments, waving the younger king to follow him.

Bog's wings twitch in uneasiness but he follows obediently. No doubt the elder male is planning on adding to the lectures he's already received.

"Marianne told me that you two had an argument this morning," Dagda starts before waving away any speech. "Don't worry, this isn't a lecture. Getting married isn't a guarantee for no more arguments or misunderstandings. In truth, it's actually easier for such things once you're married, especially when you add obligations to the mix."

"If you're not going to lecture me for upsetting Marianne this morning then what do you want to talk about?" Bog questions.

"Marianne admitted that she overreacted this morning but she also said that you two haven't been talking that much lately," Dagda murmurs, raising his eyebrow as Bog flinches.

"We've both been so busy that sometimes we don't see each other during the day except at mealtimes," Bog mutters.

"I was a bit worried that you two weren't getting along but that I can understand. I'm not so old that I forgot what it's like to be newly married with royal duties and there's not much time for talking once you get to your bedchambers," Dagda chuckles.

"Lately, there's only been sleep," Bog mumbles, flinching as the fairy's eyebrow raises once more. "Marianne was confined to bed for a week three weeks ago. Some young ones came down with scaly-spots and since Marianne was tending to them while they were kept from the others, she caught it herself. I stupidly forgot that she hasn't been with us that long and had her care for them since the young ones like her so much."

"Marianne seemed well today, if not a little emotional," Dagda comments.

"She might be more tired than she thinks she is," Bog suggests. "What with everything she's been doing since Samhain and then the winter duties and catching scaly-spots added to it. I'll make sure she rests more often, especially with the infant coming. King Dagda!"


	12. Chapter 12

Bog growls a warning to the waiting goblins as he strides deeper into the winter burrows towards the royal bedchambers, taking no delight when they obediently scatter. If he has to deal with one more complaint or one more lecture or even one more question that he can't answer at the moment, he's going to start bashing a few skulls.

The fairy king's fainting was unexpected as was the younger fairy princess' incessant questionings about what caused it. In retrospect, maybe he should have just told instead of telling her to ask her father when he awoke because it might have saved him yet another lecture about mistreating Marianne. Which led to even more growled complaints from Dax and Adder since they overheard Dawn yelling at him for not respecting Marianne and making her feel like she is a nuisance to the Dark Forest.

Why couldn't it be spring yet?

Is a little peace and quiet too much to ask for?

"About time you're back," Griselda growls, poking her head out of his bedchambers.

"Apparently," Bog mutters dryly. "How's Marianne?"

"She hasn't woken up once but we can't find any injuries," Griselda explains. "Marianne shouldn't be this exhausted and the healers are worried that she hasn't fully recovered from scaly-spots. There aren't any records about the effects of scaly-spots on a fairy and with her being the first pureblood fairy since Firth King, we have no idea how dangerous it is for them."

"It's not because of scaly-spots," Bog reassures, pushing the curtain out of the way and entering his bedchambers.

He nearly whimpers at the sight of Marianne's prone form in their moss bed, her face tensed and pale. He quickly moves to his side of the bed before sitting down and brushing his hand gently against her face. At least her skin isn't cold and he catches a glimpse of her sleeping gown under the fur blankets.

"If it's not because of scaly-spots then why is she so exhausted? Cu-Sith didn't manage to get ahold of her, did it?" Griselda asks.

"Not entirely," Bog mutters. "From what we saw as we headed toward the Light Field's winter cavern, Cu-Sith attacked her near the border and she had hidden in a briar patch. She must have tried to make it here before she had to attack it."

"Attack it? Little thistle, you're the gutsiest thing to have ever lived," Griselda chuckles. "First you attack the goblin king on Samhain and then you attack the death hound on Imbolc."

"Luckily, Cu-Sith wasn't trying to kill her because she had lost the fight by the time I arrived at where they were," Bog comments.

Griselda opens her mouth to question him but stops as Marianne groans and slowly starts to open her eyes. The dazed ambers briefly focus on Bog before squeezing shut with a mumbled no. Bog's flinch and look of dismay doesn't go unnoticed to the queen mother and she pats his arm before brushing back Marianne's hair.

"Little thistle," Griselda coaxes. "No what?"

Marianne reopens her eyes and stares at the elder goblin for a few moments before looking towards Bog. She pulls her hand out from under the fur blanket and lays it against Bog's face. He hums in delight for half a second before crying out in pain as she punches him once more.

"What was that for?" Bog grumbles, rubbing his jaw again.

He grunts as Marianne throws her arms around his neck and buries her head against his throat. Warm tears streaming against him make him panic but Marianne clings to him like a vine and refuses to let go at his coaxing.

"Oh, Bog! It really is you," Marianne sniffles. "I thought that I'd never see you again."

"I'll let you two talk," Griselda murmurs, quickly exiting the room.

Bog snorts as he notices his mother's feet outside the door from underneath the curtain but he ignores it and eagerly returns Marianne's embrace. It was a fear that he had felt as well and he needs to reassure himself that she is truly here. After a few more moments, he pushes her back and grabs a cloth to wipe her tears.

"Are you alright, Marianne? Cu-Sith didn't manage to hurt you, did it?" Bog questions.

"I'm fine," Marianne reassures waterly. "It didn't actually manage to catch me but I didn't see its tail until it was too late. I don't know what happened after I hit the ground, though."

"We heard the hound barking and so I took off to find you," Bog explains. "I followed the sound of you fighting it and came in time to stop it from claiming you."

"You fought Cu-Sith for me," Marianne breathes.

"Of course! I...I mean, well...you know," Bog stammers, flustered by her bright smile. "All I managed to get in was one hit before it returned to its home."

"You are amazing, Bog," Marianne murmurs, cuddling against his chest once more.

"I'm not all that amazing," Bog mutters. "I put you in danger four weeks ago by having you care for the sick young ones and now Cu-Sith attacks you and I wasn't there to protect you like I should have been. I should have prevented all this."

Bog yelps before moaning as Marianne's wicked fingers start pressing onto the sensitive scales of his spine. He bites his lip as she starts to lightly nip at his jaw before licking to soothe the bites.

"I don't hear talking!" Griselda grouses.


	13. Chapter 13

Marianne leans more fully against Bog's left side while keeping her eyes on the festivities in the main chamber. It seems that whatever melancholy that was bothering her earlier had disappeared the moment she was back in Bog's arms and she's determined to keep it that way even if they have to wait a little while before they can get some real privacy.

Despite the embarrassment of Griselda's interruption, she was right about them needing to talk before getting to those kinds of activities. Then there was the fact that none of the goblins wanted to start the feasting and dancing part of the festival until after she was ready to join. It's really heartwarming to find out that they truly do regard her as their queen and she can't keep the smile off her face as the revelries hit a fever-pitch.

"The craftsmen are going to have to make you a new crown since the amber jewels aren't fitting properly," Bog comments, brushing his claws through Marianne's hair.

"No offense to the craftsmen but they styled it after my old crown and I hated wearing that thing. I only wore it on special occasions because Dad made me," Marianne remarks. "Maybe go for fewer jewels and it'll work better. Or better yet, forget the crown."

"You are a queen now as well as a crown princess and you need a symbol of power that reflects both statuses," Bog reminds.

"Still needs fewer jewels," Marianne mutters. "Besides, it gets in the way and I must have dropped or thrown the stupid thing a hundred times in the past three months."

"Hence why the amber jewels got loose," Bog comments. "I nearly panicked when I noticed the larger amber missing because I thought you might have done it on purpose but Mom said she found it on the bed when she pulled back the blanket."

"That's where I threw it after our argument," Marianne murmurs before sighing. "I'm sorry for overreacting this morning. It was really childish of me to throw a tantrum."

"No, I'm sorry. I was the one who overreacted," Bog corrects. "I should have explained it properly that the Mid-Winter Wild Hunt is for males only and I definitely shouldn't have called you a simpering, spoiled, little fairy. I've never thought that of you."

"Why did you call me that?" Marianne questions.

"I don't know," Bog admits. "I guess I just picked the worst insult that I could think of because I was getting frustrated that you weren't listening to me."

"I can understand that. I did the same when I said what I did about you being a pampered princeling," Marianne comments. "I know that it's not true but I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me. I just really thought that you didn't want me to be queen."

"That's ridiculous," Griselda remarks, walking towards the pair carrying a tray.

"We could have gotten it ourselves, Mom," Bog mutters.

Marianne bites her lip to keep her laughter in at Bog's immediate sulking from Griselda's reproving look as she sets the tray on the small table in front of them. Clearly, the queen mother is very serious about her instructions for them to talk. Something also evidenced by Griselda taking a seat next to her.

"Anyway, wherever did you get the funny idea that we didn't want you to be queen?" Griselda asks.

"I haven't done that many duties as a queen," Marianne points out.

"Of course you have," Bog argues. "Just because I didn't want you to take part in the purification bathing because I was worried about you getting sick again doesn't mean you haven't been fulfilling your duties as queen."

"As I told you, our laws state that the former queen can substitute in certain duties that the queen is unable to perform but I haven't had to do one thing since you two mated except today for the festival preparations," Griselda explains. "Something you could have done had someone taught you the things he was supposed to teach you and not led the rest of us to believe that you were having trouble learning. Imbolc traditional rituals are a little delicate and they do have consequences when not performed right. Right, Bog?"

Marianne snickers as Bog snarls at his grinning mother before grabbing the plate of cooked meat off the tray. He would not be allowed to forget about today for a long time to come, she was sure of it. Griselda was only too eager to inform her about the Bog's mishaps when he had joined the other males in the opening dance.

Of course, Griselda being Griselda, she had also eagerly informed her why only the mated males participated in that particular dance and her own input of how the young queen should use the information. As if she wasn't still red from the queen mother's reminder that there wasn't any guaranteed privacy in the burrow's bedchambers but then she had to explain to Bog that she wasn't getting a fever without explaining to him what his mother said. He must have guessed that it was about the fertility dance because he stopped asking questions and his own face had turned red.

He also wasn't complaining about her being so cuddly against him and she's glad for it. It might be a hard thing to explain and she definitely doesn't want to explain it in anyone else's hearing range. It was so lifelike and she just wants to make sure that this isn't another one of Cu-Sith's illusions, something the strong steady heartbeat against her ear and the pools of crystal blue staring down at her assures her that it's not.

Nothing could imitate her husband's strong heart.

Now that everything is back to normal, she couldn't believe that she had actually been upset all day. It's laughable, really. For spirit's sake, she cried more today about absolutely nothing then when she thought that she was going to be the fearsome goblin king's pet and never see her kingdom ever again.

Maybe Griselda is right about the other thing she mentioned while Bog was occupied. It would definitely explain her being so emotional and irrational. But that is a problem all on its own.

How are they going to handle something like that?

It is a big deal, after all, and she has no idea how Bog would even react. It's not like it's something they ever discussed. It could change everything.


	14. Chapter 14

"Here," Bog murmurs, offering a piece of meat. "You need to eat something."

Bog chuckles as Marianne obediently opens her mouth to the offered meat and eats it without moving her head off his chest. She was being very clinging to him but he didn't mind it one bit.

"Oh, that tastes good," Marianne hums, picking more off the plate to eat. "I didn't eat much at the Day of Brigid feast because I didn't want to fly home on a full stomach. Good thing, too, or I might not have managed to get away from Cu-Sith."

"What do you mean you managed to get away from Cu-Sith? I thought you fought against it because it cornered you," Bog mentions.

"I was nearly back to the burrow when it started barking," Marianne admits. "I knew that those in the Light Field were safe but I didn't know if everyone here was, so I flew back to it to stop it from sounding its third bark. I just kept attacking it in the hope that it would give up or at least everybody would get to safety before I lost."

Bog stares down at her in amazement and admiration, barely noticing the nearby goblins doing the same. He didn't give a thought at the time about the third bark not sounding. He didn't even care that he would have been marked for death for leaving the safety of the burrow. He just wanted to get to Marianne. Marianne, his feisty mate who challenged Cu-Sith, not to protect herself, but to protect him and the others.

And she thought that she wasn't truly acting like the Dark Forest's queen?

"Speaking of which, did you find my sword?" Marianne asks. "I lost my grip on it when Cu-Sith's tail hit me and I didn't see it in the bedchambers."

"No, I didn't find it but...," Bog starts.

"Doesn't matter much since you're not leaving this burrow until spring, little thistle," Griselda orders in a no-nonsense tone. "You nearly caught winter-chill at the onset of winter and you were quite cold when you were brought back today, so until the weather starts warming up, you're staying inside."

"Don't, you won't win," Bog whispers as Marianne opens her mouth.

Her growling groan reverberates against his chest and he offers a honey and blackberry jam cake in comfort. There was just no point in arguing against the elder female when she makes up her mind. They'll be lucky if she leaves them alone before they go to sleep.

"That goes for you as well, Bog," Griselda states.

"What!" Bog yells.

"You may be king but I'm still your mother and if you don't listen then me and the elders are going to confine the two of you to your chambers," Griselda threatens.

"On what charge?" Bog growls, ignoring Marianne's snickering.

"Failure to perform your duties as a mate according to newly-mateship laws," Griselda comments. "The special circumstances surrounding your mateship doesn't excuse you from your duties but we've been lenient since you mated during Samhain instead of during the traditional times."

"Don't those laws actually apply to what others can demand of new mates? Such as not forcing new mates to be away from each other for longer than a certain amount of time," Marianne mentions.

"I'm quite sure that we didn't tell you about that," Griselda mutters suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at the younger female.

"I've been browsing the archives," Marianne admits. "I just got to the laws created by Firth's son, the Sound King, and I didn't read anything that says we broke the newly-mateship laws."

"How about the part that applies to new mates not spending the proper amount of time together? You two haven't been fulfilling that and you both have had plenty of time between your winter duties," Griselda accuses. "Then there is the one that states new mates must be made aware of their new responsibilities and duties within a certain amount of time. Bog is clearly guilty of that one."

"So am I," Marianne pipes up. "Don't forget that Bog is now the Crown Prince of the Light Field as well. I haven't exactly informed him of his new responsibilities and duties either. With his present responsibilities, it was decided that it would be unfair to add more stress to him. As for my new responsibilities and duties, don't you think it would have been better if you and the elders had just continued your lessons? After all, I would have been taught by the elders anyway had things turned out differently. Plus, the newly-mateship laws don't define who has to do the teaching, so it's not entirely Bog's fault for me not being taught. Is it, Griselda?"

Bog tries to hold back his laughter as his mother opens her mouth to retort but nothing comes out and she closes it with a scowl. His amusement doesn't go unnoticed and he grins unrepentantly at the elder goblin's glare before kissing his smug mate's forehead.

"You two still haven't spent the proper amount of time together," Griselda grumbles.

"We'll fix that without needing to be held prisoner," Bog remarks. "We'll search for your sword after the snow settles, Marianne, but I agree with Mom about you staying in the burrow."

"Bog! Don't you start too!" Marianne whines.

"I don't want to lose you," Bog murmurs softly, laying his hand on her cheek. "I'm not confining you here permanently or anything, I just don't want you to leave the burrow without someone with you, preferably me, who will keep you from taking too many risks. I have to keep you safe, so please let me."


	15. Chapter 15

Marianne resists the urge to swoon as she gazes up into her husband's emotional crystal blue eyes. It reminds her so much of the fateful night when he pleaded for mercy. He could ask anything of her while looking like that and she'd shamelessly agree.

"Alright, I won't leave the burrow without a guard if you're not available to go with me. It might take a while to get used to it but I'll try," Marianne promises. "And since I get the feeling that you'll probably be extending the request after we move back up into the castle, then I'll say now that I'll take a guard if you can't accompany me when I leave the castle."

"Clever girl! I was actually going to wait until after we left the burrow to suggest something like that," Bog chuckles.

"That was easy to figure out since like Griselda keeps saying, you're a worrywart," Marianne teases, flicking his nose. "Should we hold a contest for who gets to be the queen's guards or should I just pick whoever is available at the time?"

"Romulus and Remus usually guard me whenever I go anywhere but I've gotten to be a homebody at my age, so they haven't been needed to fulfill that role," Griselda comments. "They work pretty good in unison with them being twins and have no trouble attacking a larger or faster opponent. Plus, they're both good dragonfly riders and won't have any trouble keeping up with you."

"Yes, but Romulus has been showing increased interest in Willow," Bog mentions, nodding towards the dancing pair.

"And Remus said something about Kyanite bothering her but she hasn't done anything to discourage his interest," Marianne comments.

"I guess that leaves both of them out if they take mates since they won't be able to perform any guard duties for a season," Griselda mutters. "Maybe we should hold a contest."

"We'll figure it out later, Mom. Go and enjoy the festivities," Bog orders.

"I'm not leaving until you two have everything settled," Griselda states firmly.

"Everything that needs to be settled right now is settled and everything else can wait until tomorrow," Bog assures, raising a hand to stop the coming argument. "It's been a long and tiring day and we've both have had enough ill blessings."

"Fine, but there is one more thing that I'd like to know," Griselda remarks. "Why did Cu-Sith stray so far from home? I don't remember any tale about it ever entering the Dark Forest before. All the tales said those that heard its barks from afar quickly got to safety by its third bark to keep from luring it here."

"Same for the tales in the Light Field," Marianne mentions. "Did Cu-Sith say anything to you, Bog?"

"It apologized after I threatened it with the Sacred Spring's water and said that the winter winds blew your scent to it. It couldn't resist the temptation of so great a prize, so it traveled here despite the danger," Bog explains. "I wasn't entirely sure my threat would work without having to fight it but I guess it was also worried about upsetting its master for possibly starting a war. Since it begged me to let it go home and swore not to return again, I let it go. Plus, it insisted that it wasn't trying to harm you, just to capture you for its master."

"Capture me? What for? I'm not a nursing female," Marianne remarks.

"Not just yet you're not but Cu-Sith says you will be," Bog hints before rubbing her stomach.

Marianne blinks owlishly up at Bog as Griselda lets out an ear-piercing howl. She stays frozen even as the burrow starts to fill with more approving howls as the news reaches the others.

"Marianne?" Bog questions through the noise.

"I'm pregnant?" Marianne whispers.

"That's what Cu-Sith said," Bog mutters. "Are you alright?"

"I'm pregnant," Marianne repeats.

"Mari...," Bog starts.

Silencing his worrying words with her mouth, Marianne wraps her arms around Bog's neck and pulls herself tighter against his form. There is only one thing that would make this more perfect but that will have to wait until after they manage to escape the hooting crowd behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

"Cu-Sith showed you all that, did it? I guess that explains how it manages to steals females without scaring them to death but I don't think that those thoughts came from its head, my naughty tough girl," Bog chuckles, grunting as she hits his chest. "I didn't say I had a problem with your thoughts, I quite enjoy it. Did I ever tell you that I dreamt something very similar that first morning I had you in my bed?"

"You mean the morning I arrived in the Dark Forest?" Marianne questions, getting a nod. "No, you didn't tell me. Did I ever tell you that if you had continued tugging on my wings when you were checking them that I would have happily surrendered to any advances you might have made?"

"You didn't but I figured that out that night, remember? Not to mention, all those nights afterward," Bog murmurs.

The feeling of her husband's claws walking up her spine from their resting place at her hip cause Marianne to shiver and tense in preparation. He confirms her suspicion as he reaches her wing spines and starts tugging. The gentle but forceful ministrations make her purr and snuggle more against him.

"Keep that up and you'll start round two," Marianne warns, whining as he stops. "Not that I mind since this is something we've been missing for nearly four weeks."

"You've been sick," Bog reminds.

"Not for the past two weeks," Marianne points out. "You're a worrywart."

"So you and Mom keep telling me," Bog sighs. "I don't want you to tire out and maybe get sick again. Of course, had I realized that you weren't resting like I thought you were then I would have dragged you back in here after our duties were done and kept you in bed. I can't believe you've been trudging into the archives and staying in there for hours. It's cold in there."

"Not that cold," Marianne denies.

"It is that cold," Bog argues. "I'm always a little chilled after I'm done reading and goblins have higher body heat."

"Done reading?" Marianne repeats, smiling mischievously at his panicked look. "Just what have you been up to? I mean, I accounted for what I've been doing in my spare time but Griselda said that we've both have had plenty of spare time. So what have you been doing with yours?"

"Your father gave me some parchments concerning the Light Field laws and history the last time I visited there before we moved down into the burrows and the archives are the best place to not be disturbed," Bog admits quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me? I didn't mention about my studying because I thought that you were busy with your winter duties and I didn't want to bother you with constant questions," Marianne comments.

"I wanted to impress you," Bog chuckles weakly. "You're more beautiful than a night-blooming flower on a perfect moonlit night and you're so impressive and brave and strong!"

"And so are you," Marianne interjects. "I know all about the entirety of the royal law, you know, and how you had to go through trials to prove that you are the strongest in the Dark Forest before you were allowed to become king. Then there was your dignity and honor that you displayed when we first met and I was trying to kill you. You are a king's king and more handsome than any elder oak on a summer's day."

"Well, when you put it that way," Bog smirks, lifting his head to give her a kiss. "I also wanted to show those in the Light Field that I was as serious about that kingdom as much as my own and that maybe the young ones wouldn't be so afraid if they saw that I cared as much about them as I did the Dark Forest young ones."

"Surely, you realize by now that the Light Field children idolize you as much as the Dark Forest children," Marianne remarks. "And everyone in the Light Field is proud of their crown prince."

"Not everyone or did you forget about certain citizens of Clover Green?" Bog chuckles.

"I did not," Marianne assures. "In fact, I had some news to share with you today that I haven't gotten to. Those of Roland's family who disagreed with his banishment and thought it was unjust for them to be charged with frauding the royal court had moved after our last visit."

"At the onset of winter? And here I thought they couldn't get more foolish," Bog mutters.

"Dad said he didn't want to tell us until after they left because he wasn't sure who all was leaving," Marianne explains. "Those still here, which is actually the majority of the family, supports us. Therefore, everyone in the Light Field is in favor of their soon-to-be king and queen."

"Soon-to-be? How soon?" Bog asks. "Your father didn't look sick. Well, other than fainting when I mentioned about the infant coming."

"Don't get so worried," Marianne chuckles, kissing his chin. "Light Field ascension laws are a little different. Yes, sometimes the crowning takes place after the previous ruler dies but most of the time the previous ruler is still alive when the next-in-line takes the throne. That happens when the next-in-line marries but only after their firstborn, the new next-in-line, is three years old. So, we'll have five years to get used to everything before we gain the extra title of King and Queen of the Light Field."

"Maybe five years. The infant does have goblin blood and most goblins are born in eighteen months," Bog points out.

Marianne hums in delight as Bog caresses her bare stomach. Kind of hard to believe that they are already expecting their firstborn and they have Cu-Sith to thank for informing them so early. Not that she felt grateful to the hound or anything. She definitely could do without being kidnapped and she had half a mind to stay indoors the next hunt and festival.

Bog's soft laughter rumbles against her ear and she hums in askance.

"It's just that it's funny," Bog murmurs. "In a certain sense, it's thanks to Roland and his family's greediness that we're together. Our kingdoms might have continued being worlds apart for dozens of generations more but then they came up with a plan of starting a war between us to increase their influence. They didn't take into account that I'm not a beast and you're definitely not the cowering-type."

"They also didn't take into account that we both preferred peace over war," Marianne adds.

"Or more like we both preferred being mated than being killed," Bog remarks.

"Oh, Bog, I shouldn't have brought that up this morning," Marianne comments, lifting her upper body off his chest and staring down into his eyes. "I took my frustration out on you when I should have just talked to you and I'm so sorry. I swear that I haven't resented this arrangement at all. Have you?"

"Never!" Bog swears, pulling the dislodged fur blanket back over her bare shoulders. "It didn't really cross my mind that we were both forced into this. Not that I'm saying that I felt like I was forced because I didn't! From the first morning, I was...uh, well, you know...and you're so perfect that I...I mean, what I'm trying to say is that I, I...Oh, for spirit's sake, it shouldn't be this hard!"

Marianne giggles at her flustered husband and lays her head back down on his chest. One minute he can be a passionate alpha male and the next he turns into a rather endearing mess. It was almost too cute but it works for him.

As Bog keeps berating himself under his breath, her mind drifts back to Griselda's suspicion. Being pregnant did explain some of her emotional and irrational behavior lately but not completely. The elder female was firm about her belief and had insisted that she talk to Bog about it.

Maybe it's not a problem like she thought it would be. It would definitely change things but maybe not as much as she thought it would. It certainly wasn't as big a deal as the infant growing in her womb and it could probably save them a lot of trouble in the future.

Time to take a chance.

"I love you," they murmur softly.

 **Tea Blend.**


End file.
